


When Love Meets Destruction

by MorganasCrow



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-30
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-09-03 08:46:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 4,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8705617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MorganasCrow/pseuds/MorganasCrow





	1. Burn, baby, burn!

"All I feel is the burning pain!"  
\- Ablaze My Sorrow (Where The Strong Live Forever)

 

             Darkness. The girl opened her eyes and slowly got up from the bed. It was very early. The Sun was still lurking behind the horizon. She combed her hair and passed to the other room. She made her gown and prepared everything needed. The last check if she has everything. She departed to fullfil her task.

               Creeping, she was roaming the dark street and listening to the wind whispering in the grass. She crept to the door. Just like so many times before. But this time it's not a dream, she reminded herself. She carefully produced a long, thin knife from the steath and inserted it into the crack between the door and the doorframe. She was leading the blade down slowly. A loud crack emerged, seeming suspiciously loud in the night silence to her. She was breathing heavily and listening carefully for a while, but everything remained silent. She kept on pushing the handle of the knife down. Another crack as also the second lock collapsed. She slipped into the house place on the sly.

               As soon as she was within, she leaned herself against the wall and hearkened again. It was silent. She laid down on th ground and slowly crawled forth towards the arms of darkness. When she crawled into the chamber, she heard a dull snoring. She carefully stood up and undid partially the hinges of the lantern. He was right in front of her. He was laying there sprawled like a bear and his cruel face was caught in a grip of a grin even in his sleep. The memories were reflecting in her head. Dark alley. She was hurrying home, when suddenly... Someone pushed her against the wall. He smelt of cheap gin and vomits. His face was just as close as it was now. She recognized him completely sure. Long pang in her flank. Blood. A spit in face. She smirked. She was granting the vengeance upon him back then already. Now it shall finally come upon his head.

               She took the carafe with the oil from the bag, slowly pouring it alongside the damned scumbag. Then she soaked his body. He stirred and grunted. She slowly undid the lantern. The hinges gave a protracted creak and the light hit his eyes. He was blinking into the flood of thousands fires for a while and then he winked. His expression changed. At first it rerflected surprise and anger. Then the lustful grin. Now, his face was captured in the painful grimace of horror. He recognized her. He understood.

               She slowly opened her clenched fist.

 

               She was leaving through the centre of the hut, the room behind her flooded with light and inhuman screeching. The screams of mortal agony ejaculated from the flames were growing weaker to die utterly. She opened the door. The screams have roused up the whole village. Everyone rushed to the house, blazing like the tarred torch. She was bound like a dog immediately. She didn't defend herself. She felt lightness in her heart like never before. The corners of her mouth rose up.

               The smile from her face never disappeared. Not when she was tied to the stake. Not when they mounted hay around her. Everyone knew what had happened to her. No one did anything. Now she brought justice on her own and thus she had to be punished. She was leaving with ease and nobility. She never screamed. She never stopped smiling.

 

 

 

 

               Morgause. Her name was Morgause.

 

"Let the burial rite be read--the funeral song be sung!--  
An anthem for the queenliest dead that ever died so young--  
A dirge for her the doubly dead in that she died so young."  
\- Edgar Poe (Lenore)


	2. Crimson Wrath

"You shouldn´t visit me at my grave  
My hands will grab you through the dirt  
I giveth - I taketh away"  
\- Lordi (It Snows In Hell)

 

               The girl in the saddle pulled in the reins a little and the big black stallion slowed down. She was wearing sturdy leather armour and a bright red sweatband. A dagger as a protection from the road bandits was swinging by her thigh. She was passing down the path towards the Agnatharlinghuus village. Something wasn't right though.

               The streets were like after the plague epidemic, just the crimson crosses on the door were missing. She dismounted from her horse and strawled through the empty street. She met a youth behind the corner. She stopped him and asked the burning question: "Where is Morgause?"

               The youth was silently staring at her swinging dagger and swallowed. She shook his shoulder. "Where is Morgause? I need to talk to her!" The youth lifted his hand, pointing somewhere to the distance. The bad foreboding clenched around her heart as she set up to run towards the village square. Crying, she dropped to her knees when she saw the burnt body at the stake. She crawled to her dead sister on hands and knees. She was crying long at her feet. Then she took the vermilion talisman and kissed the dead's forehead. Jumping up into the saddle, she gave the last hateful glimpse to the villagers and kicked the horse.

               The journey took her twice as long, for she couldn't see the path through her tears. In the massive palace her sisters were waiting. With a heavy sigh she entered the Great chamber.

               The message of Morgause's death destroyed, frightened and grieved everyone. The whole palace was echoing a protruded desperate cry, slowly turning into chanting "Revenge!"

               Amazons, Valkyries, Death Bearers. Men had many names for them, and yet more fright. Warrioresses were feared for their fury. No one has ever felt their vengeful wrath for the murder of their sister. They wore leather armour and grabbed everything - swords, axes, maces, spears, bows. They put on warpaint. Even without it they brought fright. Now it was mortal dread. They got onto the horses and galloping they left the gloomy marshes.

               One of the Amazons had been stricken harder with Morgause's bereavement. Whilst the others thirsted for blood, Morgana rode quietly, recalling her moments with Morgause. They were more than sisters. Her memories brought her to the river, where they used to lay with the amphora of wine, indulging in their mutual love. She could still feel Morgana's hot lips on hers. Tears filled her eyes again.

               The bloodthirsty fellowship reached the top of the steep. Life was flourishing down there. The bonfire was smouldering mournfully in the distance. The sight of it gave the last hint of rage needed.

 

               The hot silence of the noon was broken by the whistling of the arrows. Some men dropped down, arrows in their limbs or gut. The dust rose and in the dreadful screaming and hoofbeats a plague rushed through the village. Men were laying on the ground, badly, yet not fatally wounded. Everything seemed to be over, just a random groan cut the silence. The Death Bearers were gone. Some men gave a scoffed laugh and were to nurse the wounded. Man could not advise to underestimate the furious Valkyries though. The innkeeper was still mocking the foolishness of the Amazons, when a long arrow penetrated his throat. Men looked around vigilantly. The whole village was surrounded with feisty, bloodthirsty ladies. They dismounted from their horses and - raising their blades - burst forth like the huge pestilent mass. The blood was spurting high towards the skies and the desperate cries were mingling with fiendish laughter of slashers, who had just bloodily avenged their sister's bereavement No one died at the first strike. No one escaped the agony. Men were beheaded, scalped, gutted, emasculated or drifted into the houses. The most cruel punishment was waiting for them, women and children there. The houses were carefully locked. Then the Vengeance Maidens tarred them. Those, who escaped the sword, suffered the long, painful, languid death as a true payback for their sister. Valhalla must have rejoiced from the new goblets.

 

"Terrible is my pain,  
Horrifying are my cries  
Dreadful is my towering rage."  
\- Nile (The Eye Of Ra)


	3. Mourn Your Grief

               Morgana wiped her eyes to bloodsoaked rag of reeve's clothes. Slow, violent killing helped her to tame the ghastly pang in her heart. Now she reached the bonfire, gathering Morgause's ashes in the packing made of taverner's son's skin, who confessed to throwing the first torch to the bonfire. Crawling, the Amazon's parade returned to their mansion, where Morgause's ashes were to be buried.   
               The horses walked the slow, sober pace to gather their strength. The line of maidens was riding through the deep Forest of Fortshriffen, being called The Dark Grove for it's depth. The path was leading them among the haunting stumps reminiscent of the evil spirits who were believed to dwell in. Gwen, called Scarlet for she bloodily murdered her tyrant stepfather at the age of five, galloped next to Morgana, submerged in her own dismal thoughts. "Dark clouds filled the open sky," Morgana ejaculated in a dull voice when Gwen softly touched her shoulder. "My mind was filled with hate. I fell down on my knees and cried: Is this really my fate?" Then she looked into Gwen's deep eyes. "I miss her... I miss her so bad... Her voice, her touch, her kind words, whispered with the wind singing in the grass at the river bank. I..." Morgana stuttered and began to shake with irrepressible sobs. Gwen embraced her and let the hot tears run down her shoulder.

„Cannot be brought back from the dead  
The rose whose fell into Hades.  
The grief is heavy like the lead,  
The Death doesn't make trades.  
No one shall ever see her belle,  
The daughter of the goddess,  
Her eyes hollow like a well,  
heart must be strong, not mess.  
Now she's resting embraced by night,  
but don't let fear to tread.  
When for each Valkyrie in might  
Death's waiting to be wedded."

 

               Morgana's eyes were still sparkling with tears when she lifted them towards Gwen. She slowly parted her shivering lips, whispering "Thank you."

The procession wiped their tears and slowly took a step ahead.


	4. New Hope's Dawn

"Have to save  
To save my beloved,  
there is no escape,  
because my faith is horror and doom."  
\- Within Temptation (It's The Fear)

 

               They reached the Grand Chamber in silence. Each warrioress needed to sort their thoughts. The greatest carnage in their history just took place. This day was to be remembered as the Bloodbath day. But it was not their hearts' burden. Until now their grief over Morgause's bereavement hasn't raged at full force. The palace was shaking with ragged sobs. Ladies recalled the merry days before the crime.The villain was punished, the victim murdered, which resulted in slaughter. But no one could bring Morgause back. Or could they?

               In the middle of this gloomy mood, an old hag entered the palace. The other day, she would be banished, or labeled the defiler and executed. This time no one cared. No one even noticed her. That's why she reached Morgana's chamber without any trouble. Morgana was laying crouched on the ground, embracing long scarlet dress and sobbed silently. She was clenching her fist around Morgause's amulet. The hag caught her hand and slipped her fingers to the jewel. At that moment Morgause jumped to her feet, produced a dagger and started to wave it in front of hag's face.

               She just lifted her hands calmly and whispered: "Love may wear evil's gown when end is nigh and heart feels down." These words had stricken Morgana to her knees.Too often she was hearing them from her beloved. The hag carefully tread closer and threw the lady's weapon away.

               "Why?", the girl shook with sobs. "Who are you and why are you torturing me like this?" The hag caught her chin and looked straight into her eyes: "Do you want to see Morgause again?"

               The question hit Morgana's face. "How could I?" Her sight turned towards the dagger, laying not so far. Just stretch out the fingers. She jumped aside, crying out, lifting the lethal blade. She was slowly laying it on her wrist. "Not like this!" cried the hag. "I'll tell you what to do, but know it'll be long, hard road of tears." Morgana listened carefully.

 " Hear the sound of my heart breaking down in tears"  
\- Sirenia (This Lonely Lake)


	5. The Path To The Darkness

"I need you to be the guide  
The mirror to the sky and sea  
Portray all above and below  
The gate of life and death!"  
\- Amorphis (YouI Need)

 

             Morgana got dressed and packed up few needful things to the bag. She attached the dagger to her belt. A long journey was ahead of her. She was to go through the largest martyrdom of her young life. All for her. To bring Morgause back. She must go there, to the valley of Kallham, through the trail of tears to the edge of her powers. Yet she swore to Katllí, the Goddess of love and death, to succeed.

               All the Valkyries were yet asleep. "Asgaard with you," whispered Morgana. Suddenly a hand fell on her shoulder. 'Twas soft, but Morgana almost cried out of fright. It was Gwen. „Do you think I'll ever let you go away alone?“

               They departed together on the backs of massive, sturdy stallions. The thorns-paved path was leading through the deep forest, muggy wetlands and over the sharp rocks. Morgana weilded Morgause's jewel. The hag put the magical power of the trees on it to guide the lass. In the shadow of the ancient oaks the trail grew narrow and crooked. Gwen hesitatingly looked into Morgana's face. The hard resolution written in her mild features convinced her.

               Two hours later they reached the dark glade. They must have passed few miles. "This is it," whispered Morgana. "This is the pace the old woman described. There," she pointed and rode towards the spot. In the bushes, there was - hidden from the surrounding world - a cave. Girls made a fire, lit the torches and entered the dark cavity.

               There were paintings on the rocky walls. Terrific images. Death, agony and destruction But you needed something more than few fingerpainted lines to frighten the Priestesses of Death. Out of the darkness, there emerged a deep growl. Morgana anxiously looked at Gwen, when the haunter of the dark took a grip on her.

 

 

               Gwen stabbed the huge wolf's head with the torch. She aimed for the eyes, but she missed. Though, the beast let Morgana go. The girl was strong and used to feel pain, but though she dropped to her knees. Gwen began to suck out the poison instantly. "I can see her...," whispered Morgana in a blissful voice.


	6. A Hard Day's Night

               It wasn't so easy, though. Morgause was really laying there, tied to the stake on the island. Yet the black obsidian was surrounded by the lake of boiling poison. How to cross it? Morgana began to ramble out of the poisoning and thus wanted to jump into the lake. Gwen stopped her at the last moment. "Over there," she whispered. She led her dead-alive companion to some sort of a natural cage made of stalactites. A peri was laying on the stone bed within. When she heard the footsteps on the wet spelean soil, she stood up and watched the Valkyries.

               "Welcome," a girl said. "You want to get over the Poisoned Spill and I know the way." Morgana produced a dagger. "Speak up," she cried.

               „Not so fast, warrioress. Let's say we'll make a bargain. A friend for a freedom." Morgana did not hesitate long. Because the dagger wasn't really purposeful for this, the Valkyries grabbed the massive heavy rocks by their feet and began to shatter the emerald stalagmites and sapphire stalactites. The ground was covered in the pile of stone flakes. Finally, just an enormous black stalagnate. Few hits shattered the upper layers and the blood-ruby core appeared. It's destruction exhausted the ladies, but the prisoner was free.

               "Thank you," she whispered. "You can't imagine what it's like to live in the rocky cage for eighteen years. I'm Sophia, by the way. But now it's time for your friend."

 

               Sophia was treacherous. She offered a moment of rest to the exhausted Valkyries, but desperate Morgana denied that decisively. "How can we cross the spill?" she asked. "There's no need for rage, Amazon. I'll reveal everything willingly. Follow me." The treacherous maiden was leading the warrioresses into the depths of the cave. There, in the lurking dimpsie she crept to poison-weakened Morgana and with a quick movement she tore her dagger out of he steath. She caught the desperate lover around her neck and pressed. Weakened, the warrioress fell to the ground. Gwen ran hurrying, thus unarmed. She bore only a torch, which was slowly fading in the dim, dank cave air. She was suddenly unarmed against the treacherous Sophia. She thrusted herself forward instinctivelly and hit her head to Sophia's torso. "Bitch," she uttered through her teeth. Whore-jilt threw the dust into Gwen's eyes and kicked her head hard. The warrioress hit her head to the sharp stone and went unconcious.

               Now Sophia was coming closer to wounded Morgana. The lady was laying on the ground, but with an unexpected lunge she tripped her opponent up. Morgana pressed her wrist against her throat and laid her full weight on. The traitor began to rattle. She reached out her arm. Suddenly Gwen stood up and crushed Sophia's skull with a heavy rock. She fell into Morgana's lap. She felt something wet on her face. She looked up. Weakened and choked Morgana was laying against the rocky wall. In her abdomen a huge ghastly laceration. Her armour was cut and stained with dark blood. That might be a serious problem. In the darkness, Gwen couldn't say how grave the wound is. Morgana denied to leave the cave though, now when she was so close to the reunion. With the open wounbd though, she cannot travel over the poisonous spill. Gwen lit up the fire, washed Morgana's wound with water from the flask and let her drink some. The last supply. They won't have any left for the journey back. Morgana was weak and soon fell asleep. Gwen began to think what to do next.


	7. Sunday Bloody Sunday

               Gwen despaired. The rescue mission has turned to fight for survival. She had wounded head, hurt unconcious Morgana, Sophia's corpse next to her and undead Morgause somewhere ahead. She didn't like it at all. Sh had no idea what is coming. Now they must get over the corrosive poison somehow. She found the massive tree log. Three sitting figures could be there, just hold the feet above the surface. She needed to bring Morgana concious and cover the coarse surface of the tree. She thought of one option...

               Morgana woke up. Her head was burning with fever, yet she still marveled at the grotesque look. There was the female corpse laying on the rock, half skinned. She recognized it only by the deformed skull. Gwen was just tightening the skin over the huge tree. The fresh blood was still dripping from the scalp. Gwen wiped the sweat from her forehead and looked at Morgana. "You're awake! How are you?" "It's been better, grinned Morgana. "Do you want help?" Gwen shook her head. "I hope it'll endure. I wouldn't like being legs shorter."

               Together, they floated the improvised raft. It seemed it's not corroding. "Hurry up," Gwen urged Morgana, wielding Sophia's leg. The thigh was covered with boiling acid Gwen used to separate it from the corpse. 

               Girls paddled to the island. They stepped out at the last moment - few seconds later the poison ate Sophia's scalp through. They were slowly strolling through the isle as they forgot the torches on the other bank. Morgana was looking for the place where she'd seen Morgause before. It was empty. She treaded carefully for in the dim grey it wasn't sure where the edge is. Then Gwen heard a protruded groan.


	8. Fight For Her Heart

"If I meet you,  
Will you meet me...  
Meet me in the graveyard?"  
\- Snow White's Poison Bite (Will You Meet Me In The Graveyard?)

 

               They carefully followed that direction. Morgana set up to run. She recognized her true beloved. The isle was swamped with gurgling pools with whatever. In the middle of the place, where the puddles were the most frequent, they spotted a clint. On its top a body in the white gown was laying. Tears crept into Morgana's eyes. The desired reward was waiting at the end of the road and they were at the very beginning.

               Ladies began to climb up the sheer brow. It was uneasy as their sweaty hands kept slipping upon the wet rock and there was not much to catch. The distressful journey was handicapped by exhaustion from the long journey, but the undaunted desire lead Morgana ahead. Gwen had a hard time trying to keep up. Suddenly, the block of black cliff tore off beneath Morgana's leg. She was ballancing on the edge of the grave, holding only with her fingertips. They have already, whitened with effort, began to give up. She closed her eyes. That is the inglorious end of the journey.   Gwen began to push her up! Gathering all their strength, the warrioresses crept upon the narrow ledge, barely sufficient for arms support. They took a while to gather strength for further ascension.

               After a half an hour of distressful strain, ladies reached the top with all their strength. Morgana ran towards Morgause. Yet she was still forced to ballance on the edge of the narrow cliff.

               Gwen hard rolled over the sharp rock edge. She moved her hair from the sweaty face and took a look ahead. Morgana was standing on her toes, leaning on the tips of her fingers and caressed Morgause's face.

 

 

               But Gwen realized she doesn't intend to let Morgause destroy her new developed feelings to Morgana. Morgause opened her eyes and noticed the expression of ghastly dread in Morgana's face.

 

"I’m not alone  
She’s waiting there  
To carry me home"  
\- Apocalyptica (Dead Man's Eyes)


	9. My Last Journey

 "I just made you up to hurt myself   
And it worked   
Yes, it did"  
\- Nine Inch Nails (Only)

             Morgana slipped over the edge of the cliff. She caught a grip of her fingertips at the final second. Morgause came to help her immediatelly. At the very same moment, she felt the dull pain when Gwen kicked her stormach. Now even she was struggling for the last thousandths of inch above the fathomless abyss. The weight of the stake still chained to her waist pulled her down into the depths. Gwen gave a cruel smirk and stomp Morgause's fingers. Her hand slipped. She quickly swung it back up. Another cruel strike was awaiting her there. Morgause was rough lady, but crushing of her finger bones was too much even for her. She jerked to release her hand from underneath the heavy combat boot, ripping her skin off.  
               "What are you doing?", yelled Morgana.  
               "I'm not going to lose you again," ejaculated Gwen berserkly. "Do you remember my poem? Once embraced by the rot cannot be brought back!" Gwen gave another rough stomp on Morgause's fingers, which collapsed this time and the lass plummeted into the abyss with a shriek. Tears rolled over Morgana's face. "There's only one way to connect life and beyond..." she whispered in a wan voice. Gwen was offering her a hand: "She's gone, darling. Now we can be together. Happy again."  
               Morgana gave her a strange look and a smirk: "Yes. I will be happy again." And she released her grip on the cold rock.  
  
               Gwen fell into tears of despair. Then she took a half grieving, half contemptable look off the cliff. She also lunged out towards the better life.

 

  
               The other Amazons traced Morgana at about an hour later. They found three broken, disfigured female bodies. Morgana and Gwen had a blissful expression in their faces. The bodies were lain into the alcove beneath the clint. Each year at solstice the Valkyries came back and to honour the three fallen heroines they were throwing ritual weapons into the water.

 

"A broken heart that just won't mend  
is the price you pay."  
\- Gary Moore (Empty Rooms)


End file.
